


in silent screams and wildest dreams, i never dreamed of this

by lightscorpio



Series: we’re never done with killing time (can i kill it with you?) [1]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017), Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gay yearning, M/M, archie and steve share one brain cell but robin controls it, not the crossover anyone wanted but the one i’m Giving to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 01:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19983517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightscorpio/pseuds/lightscorpio
Summary: “You play baseball?” Archie asks, tilting his head with a grin. There’s a picture of Steve and Dustin cheesing it up for the camera - he’s in those douchey sunglasses, hair big as ever and sure enough, baseball bat in his hands.Steve opens his mouth to say it’s a long story, far too jaded to explain anything that involved Billy Hargrove and fucking Demogorgons in some sort of nostalgic manner, until Archie continues, “That’s really cool. I’ve always liked baseball, but I was never good enough to play on the team. More of a football guy, I guess.”“Yeah, I play baseball.” Steve swallows, thinking of the quickest possible way he could learn to pitch a ball correctly. “I play.”





	in silent screams and wildest dreams, i never dreamed of this

**Author's Note:**

> fair warning there’s drug use but it’s short and there’s implications of internalized homophobia (biphobia?). probably more than implications but it doesn’t go TOO deep. ALSO this is a universe where the mall is fine because......i kinda like that aesthetic sorry!!

In the summer of 1985, Steve Harrington is no longer throwing himself around and giving - _getting_ \- as many black eyes possible in the name of impressing any pretty girl he sees at school. This is only because he is no longer in high school, and most girls have begun to ignore him. _It’s just because of the hat,_ he tells Robin, who somehow has more game with girls than anyone else he knows. _My hair is like, my thing, dude._

The two find themselves talking about multiple things while they work together - girls, movies, food, school, girls, their hopes and dreams. Their hopes and dreams often overlap with conversation of girls. Steve tries to ignore how he’d felt after Robin had come out to him, tried to ignore the feeling that something was awakened in him, a strange, scary feeling that he’d never wanted to touch in fear he couldn’t stop holding onto it. 

A family moves into town, and while Steve couldn’t care any less, Robin is apparently enamored by a young girl named Veronica that she’d seen around the mall countless times. She’d ordered mint chocolate chip ice cream enough times that when she came into the humble establishment of Scoops Ahoy, it was well known exactly what her order would be and how much she’d savor it.

“Mint chip tastes terrible,” Steve says one day when he catches Robin staring at the girl. She’s sitting down with a blonde, maybe a bit more interested in her ice cream than the conversation she’s in.

“So what,” Robin turns to him. “She’s beautiful.”

He doesn’t argue. “Then talk to her. You can talk to any girl.”

She can _not_ talk to _any_ girl, Steve finds out.

—

They devise a plan.

“You talk to her, figure out what her deal is and where she’s from, and I’ll sit here and pray to God your chat doesn’t make her never come back.” 

“I think you should just talk to her if you’re that worried.”

“Steve. _Please._ ”

Steve can’t say no to her pleading eyes. He reminds himself that this is what best friends are for, Robin _is_ his best friend, therefore he must sacrifice his already-tattered pride to chat up this girl. She’s with a red-haired boy and a dark-haired one, which might already be his cue to leave - but it’s fine, it’ll be fine, it’s not like he’d never taken a punch for a girl before. He easily would for Robin, anyway. 

“Hey,” he swallows, anxiety prickling all the way up to his hairline. She looks over to him and begins to initiate a friendly smile, and to Steve’s surprise, the unnamed red-haired boy does, too. They both have lovely smiles - like they don’t belong in the shithole sometimes called Hawkins, Indiana. The dark-haired boy doesn’t meet his eyes, but it’s not like he’d expected him to.

“Hello...” she starts, then reads his name tag. “Steve.” _Okay, so, she’s friendly,_ he notes. 

“Sorry, totally not trying to be weird or anything at all, but - uh, where are you from?” it might come off as a bit rude - like he’s asking why these newcomers are invading _their_ mall rather than staying at whatever place they’re from. She looks a bit too nice to be here - he’d never seen her wear the same outfit, her makeup is polished to perfection, and her nails are a crisp purple.

“Riverdale, California.” she gives him a white-toothed smile. 

He responds uncalculated. “Kind of far away,” 

“A bit.” she shrugs. The dark haired guy next to her is starting to give him a look that screams _why are you here?,_ and he almost begins to blush. _I work here, dumbass,_ he wishes he could say. 

It’s quiet for a minute as they all stare at each other in silence, nothing but the cadence of the mall’s music and crowd filling up the static. “I’m Veronica,” the girl breaks the silence, bringing her hand up as to what seems to be for a handshake. _A handshake? Formal,_ he thinks, but shakes on it, regardless.

“Steve, but, uh. You know that,” he laughs nervously, absently pulling on his nametag. She gives him a laugh - maybe out of pity, he doesn’t know her well enough to say.

“This is Archie,” she says, nodding her head to the more-friendly guy across from her. He gives Steve a lazy smile, and for a second, he thinks _wow._ He tucks the thought away and smiles back. 

“Well, um,” the boy starts, suddenly feeling out of place even though he’s in his own _fucking_ uniform at his own _fucking_ workplace at his own _fucking_ town. “Thanks for coming in a lot, you know? Consistency is nice.”

“I love a good mall,” she laughs, and for some reason that lessens the tension. She invites Steve to sit with them for a while, and he thinks _fuck it,_ and does so, leaning in with interest. _This_ is making new friends, and it's more fun than he expected would be, even if he feels Robin’s gaze burning into him every time Veronica grins.

“She said she moved to Hawkins because her family thought it would be safer than her hometown in California. Lakedale, I think it was? I dunno, but. She comes here with her friends a lot. _I love a good mall,_ she said.” he reports immediately back to Robin after Veronica and her entourage left.

“Well,” she laughs. “There’s no possible way the things they’d experienced in Lakedale were worse than here.”

“Maybe there was, I think you’ll have to actually talk to Veronica to find out.” he suggests, a smile threatening to tug across his lips now. 

She scowls at him, but he can tell she’s beginning to consider it.

—

The plan actually works, to some degree. 

It turns out they’re from Riverdale, not Lakedale. Steve feels ultra-stupid for that one, but it’s an easy mistake, Robin assures him.

When Steve learns of Jughead’s name, he thinks, _who the fuck is named Jughead?_ but he doesn’t feel bad, because Jughead isn’t exactly a friendly guy. He’s _cool_ , but, still. A bit cold, more like 

Robin _finally_ talks to Veronica. She seems fairly normal enough for how much she swore she couldn’t speak to her, and for that Steve envies her willpower to stay calm under the pressure of a pretty girl. In more surprising news, Jughead actually _likes_ Robin. They talk about music, movies, and books. It feels a bit niche, but at least it’s bringing the group closer to Steve and Robin by some sorts. 

It’s when Jughead, talking about some indie band that Robin swears she’s obsessed with, says: “I’m surprised you’ve heard of them, my friend Jonathan and I swear we’re the only people that know them,” that Steve feels his blood turn cold and if he wasn’t nervous to talk to these people before, he feels pretty damn nervous now.

“Oh,” Robin raises an eyebrow. “I know Jonathan. So does Steve,” she nods her head his way, and Steve thinks he just might combust right then and there. Or smack her upside the head. It’s a lot of mixed feelings, really.

“Wow. Small town, huh?” Archie comments, turning to Steve like he expects him to do something other than burst into nervous tears.

He forces a tight lipped smile. “Yeah, crazy.”

(“That wasn’t funny,” he says later to Robin. She just lets out a huge snort. “I didn’t laugh.”)

—

The plan seems to be going on well.

Robin, Steve, Veronica, and Archie are watching a movie together. It’s Clue, which Robin swears is _peak cinema, Steve,_ who decides he likes it as well. It’s really _not_ the best movie he’s ever seen, but if they wanted to watch it again, he’d say yes. So. It was good enough.

At first, Veronica says something that might imply that it could’ve been a double date, to which Robin makes a fake throwing up sound and Steve says _no way!._ Veronica and Robin are discussing the characterization of Mrs. Peacock when Archie interrupts suddenly, thoughts clearly elsewhere. 

“Do you want to see what Jughead and Betty are up to?” he asks, apparently to all of them.

Robin shrugs. Veronica shrugs. Steve lets out a sigh.

“I’m sure Jughead and Jonathan are just talking over each other, and then Betty and Nancy are like, wow, yeah, look how amazing and cool and _smart_ they are,” Steve cuts in. It’s obviously meant to be a joke, but something about the way he says _smart_ sounds like he’s impossibly angry about it for a second. Nobody mentions it.

“Hey, Jug’s my friend,” Archie frowns. “He _is_ smart.”

“Do you ever get tired of being nice, Archie?” Robin asks, tilting her head.

Archie opens his mouth for a second to reply, then frowns, apparently now thinking it out. “Wouldn’t you say the same thing if someone said something like that about Steve?”

“Nah, I’d just laugh with them. Or just beat them up. It depends on what they say.” she flicks her hair with a smile, and Steve lets out an actual giggle. An actual fucking giggle.

They all laugh a bit, and Archie doesn’t seem like he cares that there’s some sort of weird tension between Jughead and Steve. Steve thinks he likes this a lot - it’s a lot different being friends with people who are _actually_ your age. They aren’t Robin, but they make him smile a lot.

—

Smoking a joint in the park with Archie and Jughead isn’t exactly what the plan called for, but. It happens anyway. 

Jughead fell asleep after thirty minutes of annoyingly interesting philosophical questions that neither of the other two were sober enough to handle.

“Steve,” Archie says. The sun is setting across the sky, an almost-pink reaching out to touch faint blue parading the horizon. The sky was most likely as gorgeous as it had been on most days, but something about Archie’s aura created a different insight on the world, Steve thinks. Or it _is_ a particularly pretty day, maybe. Or he’s just high. That’s probably it. 

The grass feels very soft under his hands.

He remembers for a second that the boy is talking to _him_ and squints. “Huh?” Steve’s mouth stays open, the brisk air feeling fresh against his lips. Oh, Christ, his mouth is _so_ dry. 

The ginger brings a hand up to his chest, then makes an incredulous face. “I can feel my heartbeat.”

“Really?” he giggles loudly. 

Archie begins to laugh, even though his eyes, tinted-pink and worried, say otherwise. “Maybe this wasn’t a great idea,” 

“You’re not sick, are you?”

The boy sniffles. “I’m just kind of scared.” 

“Of what?” Steve raises an eyebrow slowly. Archie keeps rubbing his palms together like he can’t seem to flesh the sweat off of them, and it’s becoming apparent that he’s very warm by the slight sweat beginning to coat his brow bone. He has big eyebrows, Steve notes.

“Dude,” he turns to the other boy, his face pink. 

“Oh. Yeah.” Steve pretends he understands what he’s talking about for the sake of not pushing too far, not making Archie feel sick with himself and the world. “Right.” he smiles dumbly, and Archie smiles back. It’s just as dumb of a smile when he does it, too.

(Jughead wakes up and complains that they let him fall asleep. _You’d kill me if I woke you up, dude,_ Archie insists. Jughead laughs loudly.)

—

Veronica and Archie watch Steve and Robin play in an excessively heated game of PAC-MAN. She won’t stop eating his character, the arcade machine making incessant noises that just remind Steve of his failure. This was _so_ not part of the plan.

“God, give me a break,” he groans.

The expected reply comes: “Not a chance!” 

Betty and Jughead arrive, hand in hand, as well as Jonathan and Nancy trailing near them. Steve would be lying if he didn’t feel awkward, but. They’re civil. They’re all smiles. They say hi. So, he’s all smiles. He says hi. There’s no more hatred as there is love anymore.

“Hey, Steve.” Jughead looks to him as Betty offers him a genuine grin. 

“How are you?” he asks out of habit, going in for a hug. Jughead embraces him for maybe a second, and Betty goes in for a side hug with a happy hum.

“Well, we have seen each other a lot in the past couple of weeks, so. I think you know better than I might,” he laughs lightly.

“Jug never changes, _really._ ” Betty says. 

Steve lets out a loud snicker, surprised. 

He finally gives up trying to beat Robin in PAC-MAN, who just says _sorry, dingus._ She is not sorry.

He stands back as Veronica steps up to play now, who somehow manages to beat Robin on the first try. Something about this is suspicious, but. He’ll bring it up when not this many people are around, of course. Archie stands next to him, hands deep in his pockets, but for once he doesn’t seem completely enamored by him. He’s watching something else in his peripheral, careful to not seem too obvious about staring for more than a split second. 

Jonathan rests his head on top of Nancy’s. They’re more on the quiet side, but they seem happy here, really. Happy _in general._ His thumb’s rubbing against her shoulder, and Steve can’t help but feel a strong surge of emotion encompass him. It’s definitely jealousy. He’s felt this when watching the two of them before, but this is a lot different. It feels more inward than outward, somehow.

He wants that - not with Nancy anymore, no, but he wants _something!_ Sure, being with Nancy felt great. It felt like it was right at the time - she was beautiful, he was beautiful, they were a fire bubbling against the sea’s currents that wanted nothing more but to quench them both out. It did work, eventually, but it felt incredible when it lasted. Steve couldn’t be angry at her for ending up with Jonathan - well, he sort of was, at first. But. A part of growing up was knowing there were little things in the world that people could really control about themselves, and one of those things was making a choice to feel happy. Not everyone was born happy, but that didn’t mean they didn’t deserve the chance to pursue it. If his heart getting broken by Nancy meant she’d eventually be happy, she’d eventually have her person without feeling like she had to fight for it, then let her be in love. For a second, he chokes on his own breath. _He_ wants to be in love! God, if only! If only he was _brave_ enough. The ordeal of being known without feeling the capability of being loved as well is -

“Hey, are you okay?” Archie suddenly asks. Steve realizes his hand is on his shoulder. The glare of the machine is bright against the side of the boy’s face.

“Yeah,” he swallows, eyes wide. “Really.”

“Steve, I get it.” he could be imagining it, but it looks like he takes in a swallow too. “It’s...hard. To see that. And know that you could be experiencing that, but you’re not.”

“I just wish I knew why,” he says. It’s open-ended.

“Yeah.” the red-head sniffles. “Love’s funny, but when it’s real...you’ll know it when you feel the beginning of it. It’s different. Crushes are the best part, really. Feels fresh, but also kind of like you wanna throw something and scream forever. Love can be...different. It’s hard. We’re young.”

Steve opens his mouth. He’s taking this in, yet also this feels like he hasn’t digested what Archie’s saying whatsoever. Is he even there? “Totally. It’s like...I just want to feel like I’m worthy of it, you know?” _I know what it feels like, crushes are literally debilitating, they’re-_

“Wanna go get a slushie or something?” Robin piques at the boy’s side suddenly. Archie smiles at the two of them, almost giving him permission to get out of that conversation. A part of him wanted more - to say more, hear more, but. _This wasn’t the place to,_ his heart told him. ( _Why was Archie so intense?)_

The boy digs change out of his pocket and doesn’t bother to say goodbye to the group - he’ll come back later. Veronica and Betty are way too into the arcade machine to even notice, anyway. Jughead and Jonathan watch them with wide smiles while Nancy cheers the both of them on, ignoring the competitive factor. 

The slushie is a pretty damn good slushie, he says, even though his mind remains elsewhere. Robin agrees.

—

There is no longer a plan. It seems like it’s come to fruition, maybe.

Steve is intrigued by Archie Andrews, he finds. Once again, there’s a strange feeling crawling up the side of his throat every time he starts to think of it, but refuses to open the Pandora’s box of Archie Andrews and his smile and his hair and that scar in between his eyebrows.

He invites Archie to come over to his house, _maybe_ in an attempt to investigate the feeling in his ribs that he’s immediately warding off as anything more than friendship. Robin says there’s something more there. Steve laughs at her.

They’re in his room, reminiscing over high school. Archie went to the only other high school in town, supposedly, and is now trying to pursue music. Or _something_ like that. He’s _going with the flow_ , the boy swears. Steve is careful not to tell him about all of the times he’s gotten his ass kicked or how many girls he’s been with. He’s more careful not to blurt out that he might be having a sexuality crisis. 

“You play baseball?” Archie asks, tilting his head with a grin. He seems to be amused by the concept - it’s a picture of Steve and Dustin cheesing it up for the camera - he’s in those douchey sunglasses, hair big as ever and sure enough, _that_ baseball bat in his hands. The picture seems like ages ago, but it’s certainly more recent than anything. 

Oh.

Steve opens his mouth to say _it’s a long story,_ far too jaded to explain anything that involved Billy Hargrove and fucking Demogorgons in some sort of nostalgic manner, until Archie continues, “That’s really cool. I’ve always liked baseball, but I was never good enough to play on the team. More of a football guy, I guess,” he laughs, scratching behind his ear.

 _Oh_.

“Yeah, I play baseball.” Steve swallows, thinking of the quickest possible way he could learn to pitch a ball correctly. “I play.”

—

Sometimes plans involve little bumps, bumps that are mostly just the uncomfortable truth of emotional vulnerability. What was Steve supposed to get out of this, again?

“Where’s your dad at?” Archie asks. It’s an innocent question, sure, but it just ends up with Robin and Steve sharing an uncomfortable look with each other. 

“Not here.” he said. _My dad is an asshole. He doesn’t pay attention to me. I know he doesn’t love me, but it hardly feels like he even likes me,_ he wanted to cry out, but decided it was inappropriate to do so. He frowned and raised his brows as if to hint the was a subject that shouldn’t be prodded at any longer, and the other boy seemed to catch on.

“Oh,” he swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Steve loosened up, wishing to only subtlety give him the impression that he didn’t want to talk about his father - not that he hated him for asking a question that would probably seem mundane to most people. “It’s fine! Really. I’m used to it.” _It’s not fine, I don’t want to get used to it._ His throat felt dry all of a sudden. He could feel Robin’s stare from the side of his face, but for some reason, he couldn’t meet her eyes (even if he knew they were empathetic). 

The three talk about The Evil Dead now, trying to find some stability. It’s nice. Robin obviously knows much more about it than the two of them, as she did The Shining, and pretty much every other movie ever - but it’s fun to pretend you know the first thing about cinematography, especially when you’re with-

“Who was your first love?” Robin inquires. Steve looks at her with a raised eyebrow and wide eyes, teeth baring as if to say _are you crazy?!_ The girl just sticks her tongue out. 

“That’s a loaded question,” the ginger looks like he’s about to laugh for a second, but seems completely serious. It could be assumed he’s more focused on the movie, but everyone’s seen The Evil Dead.

“I think-,” the boy starts to divert the subject, but Robin clears her throat, glaring at Steve intently.

She offers him a warm smile. “It says a lot about someone. I get it if you don’t wanna talk about it, but. It’s interesting. I’ll tell you mine.” It’s respectful - Robin wouldn’t push anyone, no, but. Some things just are too intriguing to _not_ ask about.

Archie bites his lip for a second, taking a moment to digest the question. It would be radio silence, but, alas, Ash had just found the Necronomicon, according to the noise coming from Steve’s television. “My first love was my best friend.” he finally says, pressing a hand to his cheek. So that’s ambiguous, maybe it was another dude, maybe it was- 

“Oh,” Robin raises an eyebrow.

Steve swallows, not able to conceal his interest anymore. “Did you do anything about it?” he says, eyes transfixed on the pillow Robin’s got in front of her rather than on him. 

“God, no.” Archie starts to smile. The tension is starting to lift, but, everything feels a bit intimate now. “I’m not brave enough to do that.” 

“Oh, Arch,” the girl frowns. There’s so many questions - _who is it, what are they like, are you still friends?_ He chooses sheer silence over the possibility of pushing him too far, making Archie feel uncomfortable towards him because his most recent memory of them together is him baring his broken heart.

Thankfully, Robin says, “My first love was Tammy Thompson.” she admits, and Steve’s a bit surprised she felt good enough to tell the other boy that. 

”Tammy? _Tammy_? I don’t even know her, but. You could do better. Who names a kid Tammy?”

”Who names a kid Jughead?” Robin blurts out - it’s what Steve is thinking, and thankfully, they all share a laugh. The thick tension has dissolved, everything is normal, everything is fine.

They sit in casual conversation for a bit until Robin announces she’s going to go to bed in Steve’s room. The boys say goodnight to her while they decide to both sleep on the living room couch together. _Not together together,_ Steve reminds himself. _But like, sort of,_ he thinks twice, his bare leg an inch or so away from Archie’s ankle. 

“Sorry,” Steve says suddenly. All the lights are off, but they’re still whispering to each other like they can’t wait for the sun to come back up tomorrow to resume conversation.

“What for?” Archie laughs, sitting up. It’s dark, but. Steve can see. Oh, he can. The boy’s hair is a bit disheveled, sweater low against his pale collarbone. Steve definitely _likes_ him ( _holy shit_ ) he decides fleetingly - whatever that’s worth. 

“For us asking, you know. Earlier.” he smiles weakly, suddenly feeling overexposed in his own skin. “If that question felt too personal.” _Sure, it was Robin, who asked, but-_

“Oh,” he breathes. “It’s fine. I feel comfortable around you.”

Steve swallows, takes in the words. _Comfortable_. The feeling of it goes from his ears directly to his heart, a prodding feeling he didn’t know was possible. He almost reaches up to his chest to feel it until it goes to his stomach, a sinking feeling that, for once, doesn’t mean he’s about to yack up dinner. 

“I feel comfortable around you too, Arch.” a voice that doesn’t sound like him squeaks out. He likes Archie, really, really does like him. He wants to find out what makes him nervous, what makes him laugh the hardest, what he yearns for. 

This comes with the horrifying realization that Steve might not just _like_ Archie, _he_ sort of yearns for Archie. 

_It’s time to go to sleep!_ his brain screams at him.

—

They don’t have to talk about the plan. Does Robin remember there even was one? 

Steve puts a hand on his cheek and starts flipping through an old magazine he wasn’t actually interested in, but didn't have anything better to do. It’s an old one of Robin's - apparently a favorite if it’s a few years old and she’s decided to keep it this long in mint condition. Brooke Shields’ (objectively) gorgeous face stares back into Steve’s as he glances at the front for a second. He can’t help but grin, thinking of Robin being over the moon with some sort of celebrity crush.

  
“What are you thinking for dinner?” she hums, coming down from the hallway in her Ellesse tennis shorts Steve had often seen her wear during her more comfortable moments. She looks so domestic, he thinks - it makes him want to just pack up and travel the world with her, to find the beauty in the new and unknown with the contentment of someone who is very well known. 

He smiles, suddenly overwhelmed with the now familiar feeling of wanting to give his best friend the world and more. “What if I made you food?”

  
She thinks it over for a second, likely appreciating the sentiment, but - “I don’t know if I trust you to not set my kitchen on fire.” She runs a hand through her still-wet hair.

“You don’t trust me?” he frowns, but the corners of his mouth can’t help but to twitch up a bit.

“I really don’t think I trust your cooking, is all, Steve.” the girl begins laughing. “But. I love you, dummy. I’ll see what’s in the fridge.” she smiled, going over to the kitchen to dig through what could serve appropriately as a dinner for their sleepover.

Steve really didn’t want to admit he’d gained a bit of weight over the summer - apparently he wasn’t getting any younger and his metabolism doesn’t stay forever. Not that anyone would notice, really, he wore his stupid uniform all the time anyway. He frowned, thinking of all the times he’d taken advantage of _free employee ice cream_ without thinking of how he was going to work that weight off. He absently pulled down at his shirt when he sees Robin come back with a frozen pizza, picking up the magazine and setting it down on the coffee table. In retrospect, he probably hadn’t gained weight at all, it might just be because he’s searching for something to be insecure for, especially since-

  
Robin makes a little noise, and Steve brings his eyes to the pizza dinner, nodding in approval. She squints and points at the magazine before shoving the frozen pizza into the oven. “Haven’t you already read that?” she points to the magazine. 

“Yeah, I’m just bored. Brooke Shields looks real pretty on it.”

“Oh, totally. She is.” she nods. “Hey, totally random, but what if I painted your nails?” Steve doesn’t think he’s heard right, so he just snorts. “No, I’m serious! That’s a normal sleepover thing!” 

“Do you even _know_ how to do that?” he tilts his head.

“Are you serious? Do you pay attention to anything at all?” Robin laughs in disbelief. “If you just want to hear me talk about girl problems, I can do that too.”

“Actually, how about you do that while I paint _your_ nails?” He can’t believe he’s suggesting this - Cool High School Steve would’ve rather thrown up all over himself than painted _nails_ at some _sleepover_ with a girl he wasn’t _interested_ in. Cool High School Steve probably would’ve spent tonight getting drunk to impress as many girls as he could. _How embarrassing_ , he absently thinks. Cool High School Steve wasn’t actually _that_ cool, if he’s being honest with himself. This Steve is better. Robin helps make Steve a better person.

Robin tilts her head before nodding. “Okay. Sure. What colors should we do?”

Steve just gets up, and the girl follows. They walked down the hallway to the bathroom. On the hallway were multiple pictures of the Buckley family - her father, mother, Robin, and Finley. Much to Robin’s embarrassment, there were also plenty of pictures of her when she was very young. The girl catches Steve looking at an older picture of her with a certain softness in his eyes, and they both meet each other’s faces with a smile. 

Robin flicks on the light switch to her bathroom and clears her throat. She flips open the medicine cabinet and takes a look inside: there’s a few assorted colors of nail polish at the bottom of it - orange, blue, yellow, black, gray, and white, some in different variations. 

“I’m putting blue on you!” Steve decides quickly. Robin blinks, cocking her head. Steve usually took a while to think things out and could even end up becoming annoyingly indecisive, but this made it all the easier. He picks the darkened shade of blue and inspects it for a second with a proud smirk. “Hey, it looks like our uniforms,” she remarks, starting to giggle.

“Yeah, it’s like...our friendship color,” Steve says without thinking, and Robin just begins laughing loudly with a raised eyebrow. He starts to laugh too, suddenly feeling stupid, but not _too_ stupid. The boy nervously grabs acetone and two towels from the bottom cupboard.

They make their way back to Robin’s room, setting everything down on the floor. Steve knew he had to be careful as to not make a mess, because Robin’s father would definitely have a fit if her room were to be in disarray. _Especially_ because of him. He looks over to the girl, who’s laying flat on her stomach, hands already on the towel. He sits criss-cross opposite of her, letting in a deep breath. 

“Okay, so I’m gonna get into _this_ first…” Steve says absently, almost to himself. He unscrews the top to the bottle with the base coat in it, sticking a tongue out in focus. He’d known enough about painting nails from dating Nancy for a while, and he’s thankful for a second that Robin doesn’t ask _why_ he’s got that knowledge. It’s never fun when the conversation diverts back to that. 

“Today was good, I think. Veronica and I went out to the park with her friend Josie. At first, I was like, _hey, I don’t wanna be third wheeled_ \- but it wasn’t exactly a date to begin with, and Josie was really cool. She left early to see her mom for something, but that's besides the point. After that, it was just me and Veronica, right?” she grins. “Well. We talked for almost two hours, just sitting there and looking at nothing but each other! And the sky and grass, of course.”

“Do you know if she’s... _you know_?” He had almost forgotten about the “girl chat” of this little deal. 

“Hey, you can say ‘likes girls’. It won’t bite you.” she shrugs. Steve’s delicate hand starts over the other pinky nail. ”I’m not really sure yet. Either way, she is _really_ sweet, and she kind of keeps me on my toes. Sometimes she says things like she _wants_ me to ask her about them because she’s trying to keep a mysterious front, but I just ignore her being ambiguous and act like I know what she’s talking about to impress her. _Oh_! She thinks it’s crazy, how tall I am. I get it, though - she’s pretty short. I never expected myself to be so tall, you know. Like, when I was a kid. My brother always told me I’d stay short in his mind forever, but. I’m definitely almost as tall as him. I guess it’s hard to see someone as grown up when you find it easy to be immature with them, even if it’s just, like, height. If that makes sense.”

“I don’t think of you as little.” Steve blurts out. “Is that how you think of me?”

“No. Actually, I wish I knew you when you were younger. I enjoy all the photos in your house. Middle school Steve really went through a bad hair phase.” Robin starts, as if Steve doesn’t remember all of this with disdain. He pauses, finger brushing over the girl’s ring finger, and lets out a light laugh.

“Oh, God. I don’t even want to talk about that. Anything that isn’t happening right now is just pure embarrassment.” he chuckles. Even now things are embarrassing, especially when they involve him and-

“Aw, come on! You’re not like that now! I like _this_ Steve way more than any other Steve. Even when you don’t do your hair. I still have that picture of us together in my room! Remember? We took it on my old Polaroid to see if it would work right, and your hair looked like shit and I had no makeup on! We both looked bad, really. But we look... grown-up. And happy.” Robin smiles, and Steve wants to say he knows, he’s never not going to be proud of the fact that the girl likes him enough to have a photo of them together in her room. It’s next to the lamp on her desk, he also knows. 

“We should take a better picture together soon.” he laughs, even though he’d really rather not. That picture is genuine, almost candid, even.

“Hey. I like it, dingus.” Robin says. Steve finishes with the base coat now and pushes aside the bottle, picking up the one for color. He really hopes she doesn’t ask about Archie, because that would be-

Steve clears his throat. “How’s your brother?” 

“Oh, Fin’s good. The last time I talked to him, he seemed like was the happiest he's ever been. I’m happy for him, but I’m surprised. I thought being a college student and being happy were mutually exclusive, but. He _is_ away from Hawkins, so he’s got that going for him. Either way. He’s great.” Robin grinned. She’s got a warm look in her eyes - it’s that certain fondness that always washed upon her when she thought about someone she loved. Steve wonders if that’s what she’d look like if someone asked her about him. He feels a bit selfish for thinking that, but. It’s _kind_ of important to know. Hypothetically. 

“That’s amazing! He loves you so much.” he smiles.

“I know. I love him more. I wish I could leave here, too.” she purses her lips, looking down at her half-painted fingers. “You’re actually...pretty good at this.” 

_There it is._ “I used to really watch Nancy do her nails so I could offer to do them for her instead. She was always so happy when I did them, ‘cuz then she could just close her eyes and relax but still feel good about herself later when they looked good,” Steve hums. “I know you won’t, but, don’t ever tell her I said that. She’d be embarrassed forever if someone knew that she had a lazy bone in her body, I think.”

Robin snorts at the idea of Steve doing so, but somehow it’s _very_ believable. She thinks of the way he’d felt about Nancy - chaotic but willing, intense, almost boundless. Painting nails seemed so _simple_ yet it was sort of intimate, a level of casual he’d decided to share with her that he’d been willing to share with a girlfriend. 

“What?” the boy swallowed. “Is that stupid?”

“Oh! _No._ Not at all. That’s just really nice, Steve. Thank you.” she smiles warmly. “I’m just very glad I have you, you know?”

Steve doesn’t hide his excitement. There isn’t a need to. Nothing - _nobody_ \- here is judgemental. “Me too! You...really _are_ my best friend.”

“And you’re mine, but. You know that. I don’t want your head to get too big.” she continues to grin.

Robin is not an actor, but her unbrushed hair, freckled face, and big smile are the most genuine things Steve has had the fortune of laying his eyes upon. He’s grateful. He’s happy, he thinks.

“Oh, God damn it,” she breaks her smile suddenly. “We forgot about the pizza.”

—

On second thought - okay, maybe more than second, Steve realizes this may be the only time in his life he’s ever planned anything out.

“What was so bad about Riverdale that made Veronica want to leave?” he asks. It’s not even for Robin, he actually just wants to know. Veronica is his friend.

“She told me it has to do with her dad and how he was sketchy. Well. He is _still_ kind of sketchy, you know.” Archie winces for a second, almost like he’s remembering a personal memory of such. “Don’t tell Robin.” he immediately insists.

“Like what?” the dark-haired boy tilts his head, cheek grazed by grass.

The red-haired boy is silent for a second. They’re in the grass, back at the park they’d been high in days - weeks, maybe, summer is hard to keep track of (so is Archie) - ago. Steve is on his side, face pointed up intently to meet Archie’s as Archie lays on his back, arms outstretched. It’s pretty hot outside. “They’re just really rich. That kind of stuff.”

“Well, no shit they’re rich,” Steve sniffles. “You know Veronica.”

Archie thinks about that for a second. Sure, Veronica was probably richer than all of her friends (maybe combined), but she wasn’t a bad person. If anything, she was just sheltered. Yet she was very much her own person, very confident, opinionated, very- 

“Robin says the Lodges are socially normal and fiscally filthy,” Steve laughs at that, even though it doesn’t seem to make much sense to him. _Whatever that means, really._

“A lot of bad things have happened in Hawkins, too.” Steve says.

The other boy makes a clicking sound. “I’ve heard a lot of weird things.”

“I’ve seen a lot of weird things.” he doesn’t know why he’s bringing it up, but all of a sudden, he remembers it all. The Demogorgon, the fucking _Russians_ , Eleven, Billy - holy _fuck,_ Billy was a fucking _monster_ in all ways possible. It makes him immediately feel ill in a dissociative way - it’s like he doesn’t know where he is, who he is, why he couldn’t just be this normal boy who works at some ice cream shop, why he had to be that but carry the heavy burden of some character in an unrealistic horror movie. All that exists in this moment is him, the grass, and the wrath of Hawkins. His eye twitches. It’s bullshit.

“Like what?” Archie baits.

He swallows deeply. “You don’t want to know.” 

(He tells him about some things, not all of it - that’s for him, Jonathan, and Nancy to share alone - but it seems to be enough. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he wipes away his tears with a shaky hand, not able to meet Archie’s gaze. Archie gives him a big hug, and he doesn’t ask about it again. The rest will come when he’s ready, when the world isn’t spinning under his feet anymore. It rarely stops.) 

—

Whatever the plan before was, it’s been thrown out of the fucking window.

Steve’s having a bad hair day when Archie comes over. He begins to regret asking him to hang out, pulling at the strands of hair that just don’t seem to sit right. The boy is still holding his hair spray when he opens the door to let his friend (yes, his _friend)_ in. He tries his hardest to seem subtle when he sets it aside on the coffee table when they sit on the couch together.

They’re close, but not close enough, Steve thinks. He wants to be as close as possible in some aspect, but, also, eye contact with Archie feels too close. He’s conflicted, to say the least. 

“Hey, is that what you use to make your hair perfect all the time?” the red-head says, derailing their conversation about the last Live Aid Concert that’d been televised.

He feels flush for a second, realizing he’s _got_ to admit it now. Something about the way Archie says ‘perfect’ makes him sort of excited to tell him: “Yeah! It's...Farrah Fawcett hair spray.. She’s real hot, super great hair and all.” he says, thinking of the multiple cans he’s had to thrown away from excessive use, the multiple times he’s beamed from being referred to as Steve The Hair Harrington. However, this Archie doesn’t know him as that. He’s just Steve to Archie, he’s just -

“She’s not you, though.” 

Steve swallows. “Arch, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were flirting with me,” he laughs. It’s light. He doesn’t mean for it to be serious, no, he’d never want to pursue something that would just end before he even got the chance to experience it. This is enough, he thinks. It’s a joke, and that’s alright. Nuanced flirtation is much better than explicit rejection. 

“And if I was?” Archie smiles, actually fucking _smiles_ at him, and Steve thinks he might stop breathing for a second. He doesn’t actually know the answer to that question - he only had more inquiries, now. _Is this just a joke?_ he wants to say. _Are you going to stay interested in me when I want to open up to you about everything, even the sad things?_ another thought remains, forced to stay a thought by his eagerness to not scare Archie away, never to scare him away. _Would you leave me?_

“I don’t know.” he clamors finally.

“I do.” 

“ _You_ know?” he’s actually fucking shocked, shocked by this conversation, shocked by the other boy just by himself, shocked because now he’s definitely leaning in, not for a kiss but for something even more intimate, maybe. “You know what-.”

“Steve.” Archie says his name like he knows something the other boy doesn’t. His thumb gently rubs against the other boy’s bottom lip, and he thinks for a second he’s hallucinating, he’s on drugs _again,_ he’s-

“Oh my God, _Arch_ ,” he breathes.

“I like you. A lot. I think you know that, Steve Harrington. We _might_ not be the smartest two around, but I’m smart enough to know you’re the best around. You’re funny, and so friendly. You’re cool when you’re not trying. You care, and not everybody can do that. Not everybody knows it, but you’re the nicest. You really are. And, uh - I know, Steve. _I_ know that you are.” his hand starts grazing his jaw. He’s closer, closer than anyone should ever be. It’s setting off alarms in Steve’s head - _when was the last time I shaved, when was the last time I washed my face, when’s my dad coming home, how the_ fuck _did I even get here?_

“Oh my God.” he repeats, brain short-circuiting. He doesn’t know what brave soul possesses his own, but he pulls in to kiss him, his bottom lip catching the middle line of Archie’s mouth. It’s a soft kiss (that’s new), the other boy’s hand suddenly pressing against the back of his neck (that’s also new), and his stomach feels like it might fail any second now (that’s not).

—

Robin swears Steve got more out of the plan than she did, until, one day, she claims she may have gotten lucky.

“I think my dad knows I’m gay.” Archie bites his lip. _Oh, fuck,_ Steve remembers. _Gay. That’s...true, because Archie Andrews and I are-_

“Does he care?” he asks, too invested for the rest of them not to notice. Betty must catch on, because she shoots him an interested look, like the gears in her head are finally grinding together. 

“Nah, he’s pretty much the perfect dad.” he grins, looking intently to Steve. He hears Jughead mutter an _ohhhhh, I see._ He chooses to ignore it, even though he blushes a bit.

“I think my dad would kill me if he ever thought I, uh. If I liked boys.” the dark-haired boy swallowed, reaching to put emphasis on _if._ It’s too far gone, though. Robin knows. Veronica knows. Archie _obviously_ knows. Jughead and Betty _have_ to know now. This suddenly feels like too many people involved in the equation. 

He’d rather it just be him and Archie, really. But.

“That’s alright,” Archie hums. “You’re capable of love without your parents’ interference, you know.” 

_Huh_ , Steve rubs at his chin for a second, zoning out to his surroundings. It’s loud at the mall, of course - children running amuck and adults frantically trying to find gifts for God-knows-what. He realizes something.

Veronica’s hand is over Robin’s - not holding it, but their fingers are grazing against each other. This makes Steve raise a dark eyebrow to her. She gives him an almost embarrassed look that says _shut up,_ but he just wants her to know he’s proud. 

Robin, the next day at work, is practically jumping for joy when she tells him that they _finally_ kissed.

— 

Robin has left them alone once more, insisting _Ronnie was expecting me to come over!_ Steve and Archie both aren’t sure where the development of a nickname has come, but. It isn’t surprising. _That_ must have been part of the plan.

The girl gives Steve a particular look - like she expects the boys to jump each other’s bones the second she’s out the door. They do not. In fact, it takes the dark-haired boy a few minutes to even scoot closer to him. A voice in his head lets him know _you can touch Archie and not be afraid, you can touch._

They’re watching Bad News Bears. It’s one of Steve’s favorites - he’d watched it with his dad when he was little, but he's never going to admit that’s why he likes it. That’s between him and his dad to remember (on the off-chance he does). 

Buttermaker is enlisting Amanda onto the team when Archie looks like he’s just realized something and makes a strange face. Steve notices this, stops rubbing the soft red hair on the back of his neck. 

“I was attacked by a bear once.” the boy admits.

Steve can’t help but laugh in disbelief. “You were _what_ ,” it feels a bit disrespectful, but there’s no way that really happened (but, there was no way Mind Flayers were real, so).

He frowns, but he’s starting to giggle too. “A _bear,_ Steve.”

“I did _not_ know. What did you do? Look at it funny?” He tries to imagine Archie fighting a bear. It’s better to not imagine it if he’s trying not to have a chuckle about this, honestly. 

“Honestly, I don’t remember too well, but there’s a stupid scar on my chest because of it now.”

_Oh. That makes sense, the big, big, scars up high that look like they hurt like hell._ Steve had seen them once or twice before, but to be frank he often tried to look away when Archie was shirtless. He often was, really - it was hot this summer, he worked out enough, and he had a penchant for swimming. It’s not that Archie would be mad if he caught the other boy staring at his bare skin, no, it’s more of an internal thing, because-

“I’m sorry.” Steve says to him. He begins to play with the end of the boy’s hair again. A sense of guilt washes over him every time he’s this close to Archie, but he’s beginning to fight it back. It isn’t worth it to self-sabotage anymore. Everything is okay. The only monsters out to get him are the ones he’s making up, now.

“Don’t worry about it,” Archie actually laughs, absently touching his chest where the scar must be. “You aren’t the bear.” 

( _I like you. A lot. I think you know this, Steve Harrington,_ he’d said. Steve remembers this, eyes still wide open when Archie leans in more to kiss him deeper. Steve remembers this often.)

—

Steve doesn’t really know what the plan was supposed to end with, but. He was satisfied with what he got.

The end of summer is dawning on Hawkins, Indiana. Somehow, it doesn’t feel like the end of much. Steve Harrington is happy. It’s not that he’s never been happy before - there’s plenty of things in his life he was grateful for. He rarely had to recount them, as he found himself being reminded of them every day.

 _This_ is a different kind of happy. He is at Archie Andrew’s house, hair without spray and guard down. They’d been listening to an Elton John record, freshly finished with their The Bangles’ album listen. 

The lyrics of a certain song awaken something in Steve. _It’s called Your Song,_ Archie says.

The rising of emotions in his soul is no longer something he feels needs to be purged - coming to terms with them feels like tending to a wound he didn’t realize he was bleeding out from. He thinks of Nancy, the love he felt for her, and this - not love yet, exactly, is similar in many ways.

It’s not that he didn't like girls anymore. He just liked some boys, too. If some were named Archie Andrews, well. That was alright, _more_ than alright, really.

“I hope you don’t mind, hope you don’t mind,” Steve whispers, nudging the ginger’s shoulder.

“That I put down in words,” Archie coos, finishing for him. He turns to him, smiling like he’s hysterical, like nothing in the world could make him stop. He brings his hand to Steve’s, pressing his palm against the other boy’s bigger one. They’re both smiling, swaying a bit to the beat of the song and giggling like children - like they’ve just shared a secret with each other, and they’re going to keep it from the whole world. 

Steve brings his face closer to Archie’s, softly pressing his lips against the other boy’s. It’s chaste, there’s nothing more to it than an unsaid _thank you for understanding me._ It really could be _so_ much more passionate and he feels like he should be blubbering on and on about how much he wanted this and how he’s so grateful but he doesn’t need to. Archie knows.

The brunet pulls away, pressing his head against Archie’s shoulder into a gentle hug. “How wonderful life is when you’re in the world,” Steve whispers, and he’s not singing along anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> steve, after becoming friends with a boy his age that might not be straight who’s just as light-hearted as him for once and constantly surrounding himself with someone that fully understands her sexuality: jeez! i sure hope this doesn’t awaken anything in me!
> 
> i hate it when ppl sing along to songs in fics bc it’s awkward to read but your song said gay rights :/ so like sorry that wasn’t me that was just gay gods speaking thru me
> 
> ALSO Archie’s first love was jughead i don’t make the rules
> 
> my tumblr is @taronsexual let’s be friends and we can talk about how robin is the best character of our time and how stupid couples have rights (ex: starchie)


End file.
